


The Tales of Skyrim

by LadyGerbilLuna



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGerbilLuna/pseuds/LadyGerbilLuna
Summary: Duncan did not die in Dragon Age: Origins, but by the will of Daedra or Aedra, was swept to Skyrim. He remembers nothing of his former life in the beginning. In Skyrim, he will find his true calling, and some love on the wayNote: Some mods I like (mostly visual and maybe houses), might slip in here. Will try to get the names of said mods right and noted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I first played Skyrim after finishing Origins, and was really upset Duncan died. So I remade him in Skyrim, and from there, the ideas just kinda exploded. 
> 
> Note: Some conversations and events are going to be slightly altered because I don't want to follow the script, but some things are similar.

His head pounded as consciousness slowly returned, and sensations bombarded him. He felt the gentle sway as the wagon he sat in moved, the sound of hooves on the ground, the bright light shining on his face. His body ached, as if he had been beaten...he had been beaten, he vaguely remembered, but as quickly as he attempted to grasp the memories, they slipped away. 

“Finally awake,” came a voice. A man, blond hair, rugged face, scratches and cuts...soldier? Perhaps in a battle? “Not your lucky day, getting caught with us...”

He wasn't sure what the man meant, and he let the other men's words wash over him as he attempted to piece together what happened. Yet perhaps it wouldn’t matter much, if what the other men said was true, that soon, they would die.

Names, places, people, and divines...nothing registered in his mind. The way his body ached meant he had been in a battle, but memory still wouldn't return. He must have received a blow to the head.

And then, he was beckoned forward.

“What's your name,” a soldier asked, reddish brown hair pushed away from his face, a sharp nose, broken, he noted. Muscles, but his eyes were kind. A frown marred his face as he glanced at his notes again.

“My name....”

A pause, reaching into his shattered memories...

“Duncan. My name is Duncan.” At least he remembered that now.

The frown of the other man deepened as he checked the list. 

“He's not on this list, captain. He...seems to have trouble with his memory.”

Sharp, that soldier, noticing his hesitation. The captain paused, looking at him, then shook her head.

“We can't be sure he isn't faking it. Look at his armor, though strange, is definitely battle armor. He goes to the block.”

“Yes, captain,” said the soldier, shifting on his feet, shoulders tensing. “I'm sorry. I'll make sure your remains return to Cyrodiil.”

The name didn't register, and Duncan frowned in return, before shaking his head, and joining the other men. It didn't really matter at this point if he remembered places or not.

He ignored the politics of the execution, focusing instead on his surroundings. There was an odd silence, not just because the people were quiet, but there was no sound of animals outside the walls. He couldn't explain the fact that his body seemed to tingle, like with the feel of electricity...

A call came up, almost a distant roar...

Duncan stepped forward when called, ignoring the dead man before him. Soon it wouldn't matter...

His eyes grew wide as a giant, black monstrosity landed on the building. With a roar, Duncan was sent flying back. His vision darkened for a moment, and he struggled a bit as someone helped him to his feet.

“Dragon!” someone screamed.

“Quickly,” said the blond. “Jarl Ulfric! Is that...?” he continued, addressing the man who had been muffled before.

“Move, Ralof!” 

They ran to a nearby tower. 

“Up the tower!” Ralof called, ushering Duncan up. About halfway up, a blast burst through the tower, killing a few of the people at the top.

“Jump through to the inn,” Ralof said, pointing out of the hole to the other side, ignoring the flames. “I'll see to the others and join as fast as possible! Go!” 

Duncan did as told, landing on his knees with a grunt. Having his arms free would help, but getting away from that thing was far more important. He raced out of the burning inn to find the man from before, the one with the list, rushing a boy away from the dragon. Seconds before flames hit, the man managed to jump around a building, holding the young child protectively, as if his own body could save the young child if the flames hit.

“Duncan?” the man called, beckoning him close. “We need to get out of here. Take the boy, Gunnar. I'm going to try and find the other soldiers.”

“Be careful, Hadvar.”

Hadvar beckoned him, and they raced. 

“Keep moving!” yelled the man, General Tullius, Duncan vaguely recalled from the talks. “To the Keep!”

Hadvar steadied Duncan as they moved, racing in-between blasts. They saw Ralof and a few men racing to another part of the keep. 

They paused, steadying their breaths, as the door slammed shut behind them. Hadvar took a knife, slowly and carefully cutting the binds on his hands. Duncan rubbed them, feeling the pins and needles as blood rushed back.

“I think...” Hadvar paused, listening. “I think we're safe for now. Hopefully the others will find a way out, too.” With little hesitation, Hadvar picked up a sword, swung it, and handed it to Duncan.”

“You're trusting of someone who you wanted to send to execution.”

Hadvar indicated they should move. “We have a common cause right now. And...I don't think it was right to execute you. Call it intuition, or maybe stupidity. Anyway...you followed me here...”

“You protected that boy.”

They grew silent as they heard voices. Stormcloaks, Hadvar said. They might have a common cause against the dragon, but they would not go so far as to help them. The fighting was brutal and quick. Duncan shook his head, sadly.

“What exactly are Stormcloaks?” Duncan asked.

Hadvar's eyes widened. “You really don't remember anything?”

“No, nothing yet, but my name.”

The other man shook his head, and they continued to move. Tunnels, what seemed like endless rooms, spiders, and more soldiers who decided running was a better idea than fighting. Hadvar handed Duncan a bow and some arrows, as well as a healing potion.

“There!” Hadvar pointed as they raced out. 

They took a second, blinking in the light. Hadvar pulled him quickly behind a rock. They both stilled, watching the dragon fly off.

Hadvar steadied Duncan as they stood back up, exhaustion weakening them both.

“Let's make our way to Riverwood. My uncle lives there. We need to warn them, and then I'll come back here, and look for survivors.”

And so it truly began...


	2. The Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In what feels like a short amount of time, Duncan meets numerous people that will begin to shape his life

Duncan was thankful for the extra arrows Alvor provided him for his trip, as he carefully took aim at whatever giant monstrosity seemed to try to smash a few individuals on the outskirts of Whiterun. Despite the creature only giving a minor pause to his arrow, he continued to send arrows, a few to the ankles, the neck, and once in the face. Together, they finally brought the giant down.

Carefully, he made his way towards them. Alvor and his family were kind, giving him their single potion to help heal his wounds. But the deeper cuts Alvor helped sew shut. They throbbed at the abuse.

"Hail, stranger," a woman said, her face streaked with green warpaint. "We thank you for your aide." Her piercing eyes studied him, and he felt a bit uncomfortable at the scrutiny.

"Your shots were nearly as good as Aela's," said a different woman. Aela gave her a quick glance, and the one male in the group gave a snort, crossing his arms.

"They were good," admitted Aela. "Despite your injuries."

"Maybe you should join us," said the man. 

"Frakas," Aela snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"We need new blood," came the response, along with a shrug. "And he didn't have to help."

Aela shrugged. Without a word, they began to move as a group towards Whiterun. Duncan told them he knew very little of Skyrim, had only just arrived, and had even fewer memories of his past due to injuries. Ria began to regale him with the history of the Companions, with a few curt corrections from Aela. 

“If Kodlak deems you worthy, perhaps you could join us,” Aela said, before leaving him to his tasks. 

Flowers and herbs grew everywhere in Whiterun, hidden between trees and buildings. His eyes jumped around, searching, even as he walked to deliver his messages. 

Thankfully, the court at Whiterun allowed him to deliver the message to Jarl Balgruuf, a seemingly hard man who seemed to have a dry sense of humor. With little hesitation, Duncan agreed to help if need came. Dismissed, he left with no clear destination, wandering to the market region. 

Unfortunately, tired and injured still, he didn't notice a man going in the opposite direction until they collided. Books tumbled to the ground.

“I'm so sorry!” exclaimed the man, bending down to pick up the fallen literature. 

Careful not to aggravate his wounds, Duncan said, “I owe you the apology. I didn't look.”

The man smiled, gray-blue eyes meeting his. Reddish hair, cut short, was mostly hidden underneath a hat, just the hints of hair along his jaw.

“I guess we are both at fault a little,” the man said, his cheeks reddening. “My name is Quintus Navale.”

“Duncan.” Such an open smile, Duncan thought, carefully getting to his feet, his injuries making themselves known again. 

“You're hurt?” Quintus exclaimed, eyes widening. He set the books he had just picked up quickly onto the ground, immediately reaching for his pack. 

“Please, you don't need to...”

“Please, take this!” Quintus thrust a bottle into his hands. It appeared to be a healing potion, darker red then the one Alvor had given him.

“I have no money to repay you. I'm sorry.”

Chewing on his lip, ignoring the quiet snickers and a few glares of people around them, Quintus said, “It's somewhat experimental. I'm an alchemist in training. I'd...appreciate it if you tried this?”

Duncan hesitated. The younger man didn't seem dishonest, but quite insistent. 

“I'm...somewhat a healer at heart,” Quintus admitted, lowering his eyes. 

The words seemed to trigger the vaguest of memories, of healers and the mischief they sometimes managed, but no clear images. He sighed, drinking the potion quickly. Immediately, he noticed a few things. The potion tasted different, more potent. His wounds closed, his mind becoming clearer. His pulse accelerated, even as he seemed more focused. Quietly, he told Quintus his observations. 

“Please, come with me to the inn for a meal. I absolutely have to write this down! Thank you!”

“Quintus, I have no money,” he reminded the man, though he walked with him. He smiled.

“Oh, then I'll pay! For your time, of course. Did you notice anything else? No nausea or anything?”

Bemused, Duncan watched as the young man began to write furiously once he set down the books, barely acknowledging the amused server. 

“You didn't know what it would do?” Duncan asked.

Quintus flushed, pausing for a moment. “I knew it would heal. I just...added a few things to it. Oh, thank you, Saadia! I don't remember ordering...”

Saadia snickered as she left them food and drink. She wasn't the only one amused. 

“A few things?” Duncan asked. 

Quintus stirred the stew a bit. “Master Nurelion...my teacher, is very ill. I've been trying to find something...if not a cure, then at least something to make him feel better. I came here for some books for him, and Arcadia and I began to talk, so I tried a few things...”

His rush of words tapered away.

“You're very honest,” Duncan noted.

Quintus face turned red, looking down at his stew. “Everyone always tells me that...and it's stupid, but I feel like I can trust you. And you helped me.”

“By running into you?”

“We ran into each other,” corrected Quintus, not quite meeting his eyes. “And you took the potion even if you didn't know me.”

“I will have to repay you somehow.”

There was a snicker, causing them both to look up. 

“Sorry,” said a man, strumming a lute as he turned away, pretending to clear his throat. “Get a room, perhaps...”

A few people snickered. 

Duncan and Quintus flushed. 

“You don't...there's no need....I'll....perhaps another time? I mean repay me! Another time!”

“Of course. I...should see my way to the Companions. Thank you for your kindness.”

“I'm glad to meet you, Duncan.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured, causing Quintus' face to darken once more. 

This was foolishness, Duncan thought, as he left the inn. He barely knew this person, and already he wanted to linger, coax stories out of this young (much younger than him) healer. He was in a strange land with no recollection of his life, and trusting a man he barely knew meant danger. 

But, Duncan thought, knowing without really remembering why, he always was one not to flinch from danger...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Quintus is not in Whiterun, but I'm actually going to make some characters actually travel more, just like I alter some events and such. It's fun that way! 
> 
> Hinted Mods: Project Hippie  
> Gardens of Whiterun


	3. The Companions and the Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan begins his journey with the Companions, and meets with the Thieves Guild

Duncan wasn't surprised that eventually, Quintus left Whiterun, returning to his home to review the books. Still, he did find it surprising when the young man promised to send him letters. 

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Duncan to find things to keep him occupied. 

Making his way to Jorrvaskr, he stumbled upon a beggar child. Despite being ignored by many, Duncan knelt by her, talking with her. When she heard his destination, she begged him to take her. 

“Nobody else will really help me,” Lucia said. “I mean, it's not horrible. At least I can stay at the inn when it rains, but...”

She was too young to really fight, Duncan knew, but despite clouded memories, he knew everyone had the potential to grow. 

So they went together.

“Two nobodies,” Vilkas said, eying the two newcomers, after Duncan introduced themselves. “She's too young, and we know nothing about him...”

Duncan's eyebrows rose, but he noticed that Kodlak quietly watched them for a few seconds before speaking. 

“Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart. You and Frakas were younger when you came to us, Vilkas. She may not know how to defend herself yet, but she may learn and help. And this stranger...I see it in his eyes. Determination and strength. To grow, we must give them a chance.”

It didn't take long for Duncan to prove that despite his missing memories, he could still fight. He began to receive missions, minor issues around town.

“In time, we may start sending you to either of our other guild houses,” explained Aela. “It's best to start near.”

He discovered that despite being selective, they held minor houses in the two cities. 

In Riften, run by Vilkas, they had a small, newly acquired house to the Companions named Honeyside. So far, Vilkas had little luck actually recruiting more Companions, but did have two candidates he was attempting to sway. One was Marcurio, a brilliant mage, but a bit egotistical. The other was Mjoll, protector of the city.

Skjor held Vlindrel Hall in Markarth. It seemed nearly as difficult to recruit there, with few prospects responding. 

Duncan was happy to stay nearby. Though he barely knew Lucia, he felt he ought to watch over the young child. His worries quickly dissipated when she befriended Frakas. The larger man might claim he was stupid, but he had a way with the child, teaching her carefully, in-between simple chores. Despite feeling too weak, he encouraged her to keep trying, to grow stronger.

“Maybe you won't get big like me,” explained Frakas. “But that doesn't mean you can't get strong. You couldn't really handle a sword, but now you're holding it right.”

“I want to be as strong as you, Frakas,” Lucia replied.

“All right.”

Some would scoff, and some people probably would merely respond to humor, but Frakas meant what he said. He would always respond the same way, and then continue to train Lucia. 

Eventually, the Jarl asked Duncan a favor, asking him to retrieve a stone for his court mage. As it meant passing through Riverwood, and the stone was connected to the dragon Duncan had seen, many thought him a good candidate. 

His only problem was Lucia, who wanted to travel with him.

“You aren't ready to go into old ruins yet, Lucia.”

“But it'll be good practice!”

“Perhaps it would be best to take her with you to Riverwood, at least,” said Kodlak.

“I can go with you,” said Frakas. “I have some people I want to talk to anyway, and I could watch the kid.”

Despite the troubles themselves in Bleak Falls Barrow, the trip itself proved fruitful. In addition to finding the Dragonstone, Duncan returned the gold claw to it's owner, Frakas had managed to solve an unusual dispute with Camilla, convincing Faendal to at least talk with Kodlak, and Lucia learned a few things about smithing from Alvor. 

Hearing the tale of Bleak Falls Barrow, Kodlak decided it time to expand Duncan's quests. 

“Vilkas has sent me notice from Riften,” said Kodlak. “Rumors of a group of vampire hunters. I would like to get some more information if they are true hunters, or if they are misfits.”

“Not that I question your decision, but Frakas is his brother...”

Kodlak sighed, though a smile remained on his face. “Frakas will go with you. But those two together have a tendency to cause a bit of mischief. It's best you focus on the rumors, while those two hopefully won't blow anything up...again.”

Duncan decided to leave that comment alone for now. 

 

***

Riften was a discombobulated city. Beggars in the main market, tunnels below, and planks up above, it always felt like someone watched where they went. 

“The thieves guild has a hold here,” explained Vilkas, watching Lucia rummage through the alchemy supplies. 

“Not much of a hold, though. Bad times,” said Frakas. 

“And this rumor of hunters?” Duncan asked. 

“Can't say much,” said Vilkas. “Most people don't believe it or won't talk about it. Riften is a hard place to earn trust.”

“But you're a Companion. Surely that means something?”

“Yes, in Whiterun. Here, I am one individual who wishes to recruit. What good is that to Riften itself?”

“Where do you suggest I begin, then?”

Vilkas made a face. “It's not something that will be easy. There are two big networks in Riften, run by the Thieves Guild, and by the Black-Briars. If anyone would possibly know, it would be them.”

After a few conversations, some more one-sided since nobody wanted to talk with him, he approached a man named Brynjolf. 

“Thieves Guild, you say? Hmm...I might know something. If...you'll do something for me.”

Duncan crossed his arms. “Dare I ask what that might be?”

“Nothing too large,” replied the redhead, his eyes darting around. Quietly, he said, “I just want you to steal something.”

Not sure where this was going, nor if he wanted to participate, Duncan asked, “What is it?”

“A ring.”

Quickly giving him details of where to find it, and what it looked like, he agreed. 

Brynjolf created the diversion, while carefully, Duncan made his way to steal the ring. Aela had shown him a few things on lockpicking, “just in case,” she cryptically said, and he picked it up quickly. Perhaps it was something from his clouded past, or just good luck. Either way, it helped him. 

“You got it?” Brynolf asked, though he had the evidence in his hands, shocked. Duncan knew a story lay in the reaction, but didn't want to push. The people of Riften did indeed prove to be a tight-lipped group.

But nonetheless, curiousity made him ask, “Why did you want me to steal the ring?”

The redhead looked at the ring, deep in thought. Perhaps he had pushed too much? 

With a sigh, Brynolf said, “One moment.”

He watched quietly as the redhead approached one of the beggars, a man that had cursed him earlier, ranting and raving about his dead wife and daughter. Quietly, they talked, though he couldn't hear the conversation, but he saw Brynolf hand the ring over. The beggar stared at it, unshed tears in his eyes. 

Brynolf signaled for him to follow. They quickly made their way down, below Riften, to the Ratways. 

“It was his wife's,” Brynolf explained. “When he lost everything, his family, his house, it was the one thing that he kept. Even as a beggar, he didn't want to give it up. But sometimes, others aren't so kind, so they took it, roughed him up good, and sold it. It's a cheap ring, but to him...  
Look, you want into the thieves guild. I can tell you have potential. But things...aren't so good.”

“I never said I wanted to join,” replied Duncan, bemused. However, after seeing what the man had done, he was beginning to consider it.

“Perhaps you don't, but you pulled off that stunt without a hitch. We could use more people like you...people who might actually care...”

“I'm looking for information on some vampire hunters. As for joining the thieves guild itself, that's another story.”

“I see. Delvin probably knows. He keeps his nose in...everything, really. Will you at least consider the offer?”

“Yes, I'll consider it. If I can talk with Delvin.”

“Ah, well...we might have a small issue...”

The “small” issue turned out to be a few thugs that had settled into the Ratways, including one that punched like a horse. 

“You could have told me about them,” scolded Duncan, rubbing his bruising arm. Wasn't armor supposed to deal with bare fists? 

“You're a Companion,” said Brynolf, holding his hand over an eye that had received a punch, knocking him out for a few good minutes. 

“How...so the thieves guild really does know everything here.”

“Practically. Help me up, lad. I seem to be a bit dizzy.”

At least they both lived, though when they arrived at the The Ragged Flagon, they both almost wished they hadn't.

Tonilia, Duncan discovered quickly, was a force to be reckoned with when angry. She didn't need to raise her voice; her mere presence did the job.

“No, really,” she said, eyes narrowed, as other thieves watched at a safe distance. “What idiotic idea made you think that two people, even a Companion and an established thief, could just waltz through our Ratways?”

“Tonilia, can we discuss this after the potion?”

“Then pay up.”

Stunned silence rang through the Flagon, though Duncan thought he heard the smallest of snickers.

“You're going to make me pay...?” 

“You're damn right I am. If you're stupid enough to pull that stunt, then you deserve to pay for the potion. So pay up, or stop whining.”

After Brynolf had begrudgingly paid, Duncan was finally introduced to Delvin, who was indeed still snickering. 

“Serves you right for not taking the easy way back in.”

“He's not in the Guild yet,” replied Brynolf. “until then, it's the Ratways. Anyway, it had to be done. They were causing trouble. He wanted to talk to you, Delvin.”

“Me? And what would a Companion like you want with a lowly thief like me?”

Duncan had a feeling that despite the teasing, Delvin knew far more than he was letting on. Better to be on this man's good side, he decided, even if it did mean joining the guild. As if reading his mind, the small smirk pulled just a bit wider. 

“I'm looking for information on a group of vampire hunters.”

“Ah. The Dawnguard.”

“What? You can't be serious, Delvin,” said Brynolf. “They've been disbanded for...”

“'Course, 'course,” replied the older thief, waving his hand. “Funny thing is, they're getting back together. Or at least, that's the rumors. Some man named Isran is rebuilding them. Fort Dawnguard. Can tell you how to get to them, too, if you want.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Sure. The fee is,” began Delvin, while Brynolf snapped, “Delvin!”

“Just kidding! That hit to the head knock out your humor, Bryn? Here. Makes sense the Companions want to know.”

“Why would you say that?”

Delvin smiled, and shook his head. “I'm a thief, yeah? But some things aren't my place to tell. You ask Kodlak. Maybe he'll tell you. Maybe he won't. Who am I to judge?”

With those cryptic remarks, Duncan left, promising Brynolf to think about the offer to join, and returning to Vilkas. 

“The Dawnguard, eh?” said Vilkas, looking at the paper Delvin had given him, as if the simple paper would yield more information.

“You want me to go see?”

“I'm not sure if it's a good idea, Duncan.”

“Kodlak wants me to see what they are doing. I can't do that without approaching them.”

“I don't think we should go with you,” Vilkas said abruptly. “I...”

“It's all right, Vilkas. It's better to go alone, so in case something goes wrong...”

“That is not what I meant,” snapped the man. Eyes wide, Lucia stopped chatting with Frakas.

“Brother, calm down,” said Frakas. 

“It's dangerous to go alone to some unknown location.”

“I might not remember a lot, Vilkas, but I'm not helpless, either. Kodlak trusts me. If you and Frakas can't go...”

Jaw tight, Vilkas simply stared at him, until a hesitant knock interrupted. 

Lucia quickly ran to the door, opening it. 

“Oh, hello. Can I come in?”

Duncan smiled, despite the tension he felt in the twins. 

“Quintus, welcome. What are you doing here?”

Smiling, Quintus entered as Frakas gave him a small wave to enter. 

“I stopped by the Temple of Mara to borrow some books. I heard you were here, so I stopped by.”

“It's good to see you. How is your master?”

The smile quickly fell from his face. “Not better, but not worse, at least.”

“And still cantankerous?” Vilkas asked, a small smile on his lips.

“I doubt that will ever change. I don't regret it, but he can be...trying at times?”

“And are you still smuggling in that girl?”

Quintus coughed, coloring a little bit, embarrassed.

Duncan raised an eyebrow. He felt...almost a tightening in his stomach. Was Quintus taken? 

“She's about your age, Lucia,” continued Vilkas. “Nurelion yells all the time that they don't have the money to feed another person.”

“Her name's Sofie. She...lost her parents. I don't do much, really. I sneak her in so she doesn't have to sleep outside, and I try to get her some things when I can.”

Stunned, Duncan felt warmth spread through his body, want and affection warring through him. This strange man continued to surprise him. 

“Then take this,” said Duncan, offering him some of the coin that he received from Brynolf. 

“Duncan, no! I can't take this from you. I didn't come here for money. I just wanted to see you. The letters are nice and all...”

“Then consider it repayment for the potion you gave me. Please, buy this Sofie some clothes. Or buy alchemy supplies. Either way, it'd make me feel better if you had it.”

Blushing, Quintus accepted the money. 

“I can't stay too long. I have a mission to complete.”

Vilkas' lips thinned. 

“It's dangerous?” Quintus asked. 

“It may be. I don't know yet. I'm full aware I'm not expendable, Vilkas. I was reminded that sometimes things need to be done, whether we want to or not. This is also the case. If there's any shred of evidence that something is entirely wrong, I'll run.”

“Promise?” asked Frakas.

“I promise.” 

“Be careful,” said Quintus, handing him a few potions from his pack. “The Dawnguard was an honorable order. If they are the real Dawnguard...”

“Thank you,” said Duncan. He fought the urge to kiss this man before leaving. He might not see him for a while, and the urge to linger became strong. But something told him to keep moving. A lingering memory? The fear of this growing attraction? He wasn't sure. 

But somehow, he suspected things might just be a bit different soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. I had too much fun with this. Yes, I altered quests. I have to admit, there's some things I do like about the Thieves' Guild quests, but the beginning ones...not so much. In a way, I prefer the Guild in Oblivion, so I altered the quests. The beggars were important in Oblivion to the thieves. I'm trying to show some of that here.  
> And I expanded the Companions, too. I do kinda like the Guild concepts, instead of just one location. There's exceptions, of course. 
> 
> Mentioned is the mod Riften Supreme, because I liked the added décor
> 
> I'm thinking the pace of the story will slow down in a few chapters. So please don't be surprised at the fast pace in the beginning.


End file.
